Sometimes
by Tiggy the Hopeless Romantic
Summary: Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I told the truth... Bookverse Gelphie oneshot


_For my Faba who is developing a fondness for this pairing._

Sometimes when I watch you do something simple, like read, brush your hair, tighten your shoes you get these focused looks on your face. You're always like that, you know? No matter what you're doing, it's the most important thing to be doing. You're passionate about everything. Joy, sorrow, annoyance. How passionate would you be about passion? The way you would focus on someone. He would feel like he was the only person in the world. Just imagining that amount of love is overwhelming.

Sometimes I wonder who you would pair off with, if you would pair off with one of the boys as the other girls all seem so intent to do. That's all the gossip these days, you know. Which of the boys is the most dashing, most charming, will be the most successful? Who do you want? Who would you settle for? I can't see you just settleing for anyone.

Sometimes you ask me to help you undo your dress. You have this one particularly high necked dress, and it's difficult for you to reach the buttons around back. So I help you, as any roommate would. You don't think anything of it. You're already thinking of the essay you need to finish, or the concept you didn't understand and mean to ask about in class tomorrow. There are exactly eighteen white pearl buttons on the back of your high necked black dress. When each is unfastened a tiny sliver of green skin is revealed. A shocking color, to be sure, but a pretty one; it brings emeralds, fresh spring grass, new life to mind. The color is fresh and vibrant. Also smooth and soft. Sweetly scented from the oil you must use to cleanse yourself.

Sometimes I wonder if the reason I can't see you pairing off with anyone is because I wish you and I would be a pair. I don't want to see you with any of the boys. Would you want to be with one of them? If you want one of them, I'll do anything to help you. Tell me the word and I will do anything to help you find love. But a selfish part of me wants nothing more than to have you for myself. Everyone always assumes I get whatever I want, whenever I want. But I don't have this.

Sometimes I'm afraid of what people would say if they knew I had these kinds of thoughts. What my parents would think if they knew. They would be horrified. When I was about six years old, a cousin of mine- a male cousin, mind you- was caught... doing something that I couldn't understand at the time and can only guess at now. He was sent away. Mother told me he was going to visit relatives down south. And she told me that I would never see him again. I think I understand _why_ now. Would something like that happen to me? Would I be sent away, vanish to nothing but a memory? Not spoken of.

Sometimes I imagine what you would say if I told you I loved you. I think I do, you know. Would you be horrified? Frightened and disgusted that a girl could feel this way for another girl? Confused as to why I would feel this way about you? Polite to my confession, but slowly push yourself away from me in the vain hope that it faded with time and distance? Would you tell you understand, but don't reciprocate my feelings but wish to remain friends? and would you mean it? Would you tell me you loved me back? Would you kiss me, would we hold each other, curl together in bed?

Sometimes I picture our future together. Two women united together in a man's world? I'm sure if we worked together we would succeed. No one would be able to stop us, not if we were together. We would live together in a great town house in the Emerald City. You would work wherever you wished to- a teacher, a doctor, a lawyer, an author, whatever. No one would tell you that you couldn't do something because you are a woman. You are a stronger woman than that. I would make sense of my sorcery lessons and entertain you with small feats of sorcery when you came home. We would take in children, raise them as our own. Love them, not use them as your father used you, or forget them as my parents always seemed to forget about me.

Sometimes I muster up the courage to tell you I love you, but whenever I do, I become afraid I would ruin our friendship. I don't want to do that. I must have your friendship, if nothing else. I don't know what I would do without your friendship. I don't want to risk losing you. So I won't.

--

"Hold out, my sweet," you say as you stand on the carriage step. I stand a head taller than you because I am completely in the carriage and it's interesting to get a new perspective on your lovely face. Your hair is loose and the black silk mixes with my blonde curls, forming a curtain around us. My heart jumps into my throat as you cup my cheek and close your soft brown eyes. My eyes instinctively know to shut as your lips brush mine. How soft they are. How sweet this feels. You pull back and repeat, "Hold out, if you can." And your lips come back to mine in another kiss.

You push away, jumping down the last few steps, turning your back to me. You aren't crying, I know you aren't crying because you never cry. But I am, and the tears sting me as they would burn you. Because this ended us before we began. I lost you without realizing I had had you. Would I have had you if I had told you I loved you before? Would I still have lost you?

The other passengers give me weary eyes. They know you are not my sister as I told them you were. We do not resemble each other in the slightest and our kiss was not one that would pass between sisters, no matter how close. I rest my head against the side of the carriage and try not to cry.

Sometimes I wonder what I would do if I could go back and do it all again, because I lost you all the same.


End file.
